


Outrage Amazon

by FleetingMadness



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23484232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetingMadness/pseuds/FleetingMadness
Summary: A short thing that came to me while playing through Anastasia. I realized that Penthesilea's time had come at last.Contains a talking about violence (but no actual violence) and vague as hell spoilers for the first Lostbelt chapter.
Relationships: Fujimaru Ritsuka/Penthesilea | Berserker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Outrage Amazon

The thing in front of her was not Achilles. Human weapons could not harm him, but they still scarred his hide. He killed by the score, but with brute strength, rather than skill. He smelled of Mediterranean salt, but it was stale in his fur. In her conscious mind, there could be no doubt that this creature was not Achilles.

And yet, she wanted to kill him.

Her legs wanted to leap forward and kick his knees out from under him. Her arms wanted to reach up and crush his throat. Her core wanted to swing her flails at his shoulders hard enough to sever his arms. Her very spirit origin was screaming at her to kill this man, this Achilles in front of her. She could feel the Roar of the Amazons creeping up her throat, and she bit her tongue to stop it.

This was not Achilles, despite her insanity’s protestations, and that meant that destroying him was her second priority. The first was to keep Her safe. The red-haired Master behind her; the one who had seen her at her weakest and most desperate, and who still called her Queen; the one who had seen her allies ripped apart by her Amazons, but held no grudge to her madness; the one who had welcomed her to Chaldea with a smile as wide as her open arms, swept her into a hug, and said “welcome home.” If she let her guard down for a moment, that girl would be crushed. Her frail body would be destroyed in an instant, either by Not-Achilles’ axes or by flying debris. She could never let that happen. She _would_ never let that happen, even if it meant dying before she could fulfill her goal.

A hand rested on her shoulder, weak and slender and only slightly warmer than the room itself. The rough pads of her fingers scratched familiar against her shoulder, and Penthesilea turned her head halfway to see her Master standing behind her, looking at her with that kind, gentle smile that meant she was about to do something unfathomably kind and unbelievably stupid.

“You must see him, too,” Her Master said. Her tone was barely more than a whisper, her words for the two of them alone in this crowded, hectic room. “I know you’re thinking it, and you’re right. That man in front of you could only be Achilles.”

Penthesilea wanted to say how much it meant, to be able to fight without restriction. She wanted to thank her Master almost as much as she wanted to scream at her to value her own safety. She wanted to hold this sweet, fragile girl, and to tell her all the things she had done to make her feel whole, even in this form. She couldn’t say any of them fast enough. Her legs tensed, her hands gripped around the chains of her flails, and as her Achilles filled her vision once more, the Roar of the Amazons ripped between her clenched teeth. She lunged forward, and as her shoulder slipped out from under her Master’s hand, her last coherent thought was lost in the rage of a Berserker.


End file.
